Human Error
by inkedhymnal
Summary: Kaidoh is asked by Inui to meet for coffee, and he ends up destroying someone else's relationship. Now he has to put it back together, while trying to heal his own wounds. InuixKaidoh, MomoxRyoma, others. Shounen-ai. COMPLETE.
1. Sorry Isn't Enough

Disclaimer: I do not own PoT, and I gain no profit from writing this fic.

Pairing: InuixKaidoh, MomoshiroxRyoma, OishixEiji, TezukaxFuji

I appreciate comments and criticism. If you do not like shounen-ai, please do not read. Thank you, and enjoy. :)

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**Human Error - Pt. 1**

It was strange. The note had said to meet at this exact spot at this exact time, but why was he the only one here? Why was Inui-sempai late? It was highly unlike the data obsessed tennis player.

Kaidoh glanced at his wristwatch once more, silently berating himself for doubting his sempai. Sure the note said to meet at four, but it wasn't like Inui was thirty minutes late. It was only 4:03. Kaidoh had just been early that was all. Yeah, that was it. He was early, and Inui got stuck in traffic or something. He would come.

Still, Kaidoh felt the need to reassure himself, so he dug around in his pocket and brought out the crumpled bit of paper that an upperclassman passed to him earlier that day in the hall, saying it was from Inui.

_Meet me at the Coffee Lounge at 4. My treat. - Inui_

While some might not understand the significance of the note, Kaidoh did. He had not admitted it to anyone, nor would he ever, but he actually liked Inui-sempai. And not just as a role model or as a friend. He liked him as something much more. He thought he had kept that well hidden with his gruff exterior and total lack of social skills (yes, he was aware he lacked them), perfectly content to admire Inui from afar. But over the course of the past few weeks Kaidoh noticed something.

Inui started paying attention to him.

_Special_ attention.

The idea that Inui might return his feelings had been unnerving, at first, but as he began to realize that it meant the fulfillment of his dreams the idea became one he cherished the most. Of course he was far too uncomfortable to make the first move and hoped Inui-sempai would do it for him. And this note was just what that was.

Everyone knew that Inui liked to drink very...well, strange was the most polite word for it, drinks. Only Fuji could manage to swallow them, and Kaidoh held a secret envy for the tensai because of it. The fact that Inui invited Kaidoh to a normal coffee shop instead of offering him one of his strange drinks was a sign that all that special attention was indeed for something more.

Or at least that was what Kaidoh desperately hoped to think.

It wasn't that he was a hopeless romantic, but a part of him wanted to be seen as more than the gruff tennis player he appeared to be. It was hard for him to express his emotions, yet Inui seemed to be able to sense his moods almost intuitively. It was a strange and comforting thought, and Kaidoh found that, almost more than anything, he wanted to let Inui in completely, not just let the upperclassman guess (even though his guesses tended to be spot on).

So Kaidoh would wait outside the shop as patiently as he could for Inui, even though his heart was pounding as if he had just run a marathon, and he was sweating as if he had just played a two-hour tennis match. He kept clenching and unclenching his hands and letting out nervous little hisses, which bought him about a five-foot radius of peace from the other coffee shop goers. He didn't mind though. He was waiting for Inui-sempai, and the others weren't even a blip on his radar at the moment.

So he waited.

The sky began to turn from bright, crystal blue to a dark, steely gray. Clouds rolled in, grumbling as if they had upset stomachs. People began to murmur and move inside the shop and others began to dig around for umbrellas. But not Kaidoh. He was going to wait for Inui, just like the note said he should.

He would wait.

The first drops of rain began to hit - softly at first like teasing kisses. Then they began to come harder, more quickly, like the stinging of wasps. Eventually they came down in a rush, the sky groaning in pleasure as it unleashed its heavy load. Everyone was inside by now, only a few out on the streets, huddled beneath their umbrellas as they scurried to wherever they were going.

But not Kaidoh. He remained outside, getting soaked, and not caring. Inui had said to wait for him. So he was going to wait.

Kaidoh glanced down at his watch. 5:30. An hour and a half.

There must have been some sort of accident. Otherwise why would Inui-sempai be this late for a meeting he had set up? So Kaidoh kept standing the rain, not caring about the stares he received or the whispered comments behind raised hands. He didn't care. Not at all. He was waiting for Inui-sempai, so they could all go screw themselves. They'd just better hope they never met him in a tennis match.

But it was wierd. Why did the rain on his lips taste of salt? Why was the rain blurring his vision? Why did the sound of the falling rain begin to drown out the beat of his heart? Why was it getting so very cold?

And why did the sky sound like it might be crying?

"Kaidoh?"

Kaidoh snapped his head up, wincing as his neck popped uncomfortably.

"Viper, what are you doing out in the rain, dumbass?"

Momoshiro was looking at him from under the shelter of an umbrella, a small convenience store bag tucked against his side. He had probably come from some sort of tennis practice since he was dressed in his tracksuit jacket and tennis shorts and shoes. He had no bag, so perhaps he had stopped at his house before being sent out again.

"None of your business," Kaidoh hissed in his usual surly manner. He was in no mood to play stupid games with Momoshiro.

"Eh, Viper, you're gonna get sick if you keep standing there," Momoshiro continued, his face a clear indication of the confusion he felt.

Kaidoh curled his lip up in a sneer, "As if I need your concern."

Momoshiro's eyebrow twitched. "Screw you Viper!" he snapped. However, he made no move to leave. He continued to peer at Kaidoh, and it made Kaidoh uncomfortable. He had never liked people studying him like that. Maybe that was why Momoshiro always got on his nerves, Ryoma too.

"What?" Kaidoh snarled when Momoshiro didn't attempt to leave.

Momoshiro sighed. "Why don't you come to my house? It's not far, and you can call whomever you're waiting for and tell them where to meet you. I doubt they want you to get sick waiting for them in the rain."

It was an unusually kind offer from his rival, and at first Kaidoh wasn't sure he should take it. Was it a trick of some sort? But the look on Momoshiro's face didn't display any hints of malice, and whatever Momoshiro was it certainly was not malicious. They might be rivals, but Kaidoh knew as well as Momoshiro that neither of them wanted to actually seriously injure the other or have anything truly awful happen to them. At the very least Momoshiro wanted Kaidoh to remain healthy so they could play a match tomorrow at practice.

Yeah, that was it.

"Fine," Kaidoh relented, managing to make himself sound sullen as he slipped under the umbrella.

At least now he wasn't getting wet.

So then...why did it still feel like rain was falling on his cheeks?

* * *

"Here," Momoshiro tossed Kaidoh another towel and a bottle of orange juice as he flopped into the swivel chair before his desk.

Kaidoh caught the two easily, mumbling a thank you that made him sound ungrateful. He rubbed briskly at his hair with the towel and left it there, picking at the shirt and shorts Momoshiro lent him when they got back to Momoshiro's home. Kaidoh knew they were close in height and weight, but it was sort of eerie how the clothes fit so well. He cracked open the cap on the orange juice, downing half the bottle as Momoshiro looked on.

Kaidoh made no attempt to make conversation, and thankfully Momoshiro didn't seem to expect any. He also seemed to assume Kaidoh called Inui (not that Momo knew that was who he would have called anyways) about the meeting, but he hadn't. He couldn't work up the courage to confront Inui, even on the phone. There was that part of him - that part of him that feared it was all a big misunderstanding and Inui would think him a fool. Kaidoh feared few things in his life, and that was one of them.

"Arf!"

Kaidoh blinked, watching as the door to Momoshiro's room got pushed open and a puppy bounded in. It couldn't have been more than a month old, still a bit wobbly on its little legs, all soft golden fur and huge, liquid amber eyes.

"Hey Twister," Momoshiro grinned at the puppy from his seat.

The puppy made a high woofing noise and turned to face Kaidoh. Kaidoh stiffened, not sure what to do. He liked animals, especially cute fuzzy ones like the puppy, but they didn't like him. More than once a cat bit him or he sent a dog running for its life. Even bunnies seemed to tremble when he came near. He knew it had to do with his gruff appearance, but there was little he could do about that. In any case, it wasn't like he needed Momoshiro knowing that he liked small animals anyways. It would make him the laughing stock of the tennis team and Momoshiro would never let him live it down. Yes, definitely better not tell him.

"Arf!"

Kaidoh was drawn out of his train of thought by the tiny bark and the feel of a wet nose nudging his hand. He blinked down at the ball of fluff currently trying to crawl into his lap, and also became aware of Momoshiro sitting across from him on the bed now, looking far to pleased with himself.

Momoshiro reached out and took the puppy, who made a sound very much like a squeak of disappointment. It was rather adorable. Momoshiro cuddled the puppy, cooing to it as the baby animal licked his face. "You wanna hold him?" Momoshiro asked, holding out the ball of fuzz to Kaidoh.

Kaidoh gulped. Yes, he really did want to hold it actually, but if he said yes would Momoshiro make fun of him for it? Well, how could he when he was the one making baby noises to it? But, then again, Momoshiro was probably offering so he could have ammo against Kaidoh later, so -

"Here," Momoshiro said, and Kaidoh suddenly had a small ball of fur dropped into his arms.

The puppy wriggled, righting itself in his grasp and placed two tiny paws on his chest. It wagged its tiny stub of a tail and peered up at Kaidoh with those big eyes, letting out a yip and panting merrily.

Why wasn't it running from him? Wasn't he terrifying? Most people found him that way, much less animals. Well, not all people. Inui hadn't seen him that way. Inui had known what lay beneath his gruff appearance, or so he thought.

Did Inui really not care? Kaidoh had his cellphone on him and Inui knew the number, but he hadn't called to say he would be late. He hadn't done anything. Did that mean that Inui just didn't really care?

The puppy let out a growl and Kaidoh realized he was squeezing it to hard. Shocked, he let the puppy go, a bit horrified that he might have harmed the little thing. He might be a very offensive player in tennis, but took no pleasure in hurting things for fun or by accident.

"Kaidoh...you sure you're okay?" Momoshiro asked, taking the puppy back and setting it in his lap, stroking the fur.

"I'm fine," Kaidoh growled, though now it was only a half-hearted attempt.

Why? Why hadn't Inui shown up? What possible reason was there? He could have called and said he was going to be late or that something else had come up and they would reschedule. Or he could have told Kaidoh to come meet him if he got stuck somewhere. It wasn't like Kaidoh couldn't run to most places in the same time it took a normal person to hail a cab. In fact, he could have gotten there faster since he would be caught in less traffic. So it didn't make any sense. Why wouldn't Inui-sempai have said anything, anything at all? Why would he just be silent? For what reason had he stood out there in the rain for?

"Kaidoh," Momoshiro said softly, reaching out and brushing his cheek.

Kaidoh recoiled from the touch. Why was Momoshiro touching him like that? What was with that look of pity and concern on his face?

It was then Kaidoh felt the moisture running down his cheeks, felt the taste of salt on his lips, realized his vision was blurred again.

Oh. Oh god he was crying. Why? Why was he allowing himself to cry in front of Momoshiro? This was humiliating beyond reason! That stupid bastard would mock him forever because of this! The great Kaidoh, the Snake of Seishun Gakuen, crying! And what for?

For Inui.

Oh, god, for Inui. For something he had wanted so desperately, and it seemed he would never get now. He didn't understand, nor did he think he ever would now. What had been the point of it all? Why had he wanted Inui to be there so badly? Why had he wanted Inui to touch him? To hold him? To make him feel like he was more than just some gruff tennis player that everyone feared? Why? So he could fee like this? Like something was tearing him up inside? Like he wanted to crawl under a rock and just stay there? What possible reason could he have waited out in the rain for? This surely was not it!

"Kaidoh," Momoshiro murmured again, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Something inside Kaidoh finally broke. He couldn't take it. Everything came out, everything. All the anxiety over the months of longing for Inui, of somehow knowing he could never obtain him. All the anxiety of waiting, all the hurt that was welling up inside that he hadn't felt he could release because of his pride, because of how the world saw him.

He leaned into Momoshiro, allowing the tears to fall. He didn't sob loudly, like some woman, but he let himself cry. He let Momoshiro wrap his arms around him, let his rival rub his back as he shook. He felt so pathetic, so utterly weak for crying like this, but he couldn't help it. If he didn't cry or scream or do something he thought he might burst. He just wanted someone to let him cry, to not mock him for it, to let him cry all of it out and to comfort him and hold him like he was a real person and not some crazy kid who could hit a freakin' buggy whip shot.

"Kaidoh, what's - "

No, he didn't want Momoshiro to talk. He couldn't talk about this. He didn't want to. He just wanted the warmth of someone else, that was all. How could he talk to Momoshiro about this? How could he talk to anyone about this? So, please, please don't let Momoshiro talk.

Kaidoh raised his head, aware he must look even more like a monster with red, puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks. But he didn't care. He did the only thing that came to mind to make Momoshiro shut up.

He kissed him.

To be quite honest it was his first kiss. He wasn't even sure why he had thought to kiss Momoshiro to get him to be quiet. But for whatever reason he had thought of the idea, and it was happening. Was this how it might feel to have kissed Inui? Would his lips be this warm? Would his arms be this strong and wrapped around him? Would be kissing back with such gentle pressure, as if he were delicate rather than the battle hardened tennis player he was? Was this what it would have felt like to share breath with Inui?

"Hn, Kaidoh - ," Momoshiro began as they broke apart.

"Momo?"

Momoshiro's face changed with that single word. Kaidoh saw his face fall, saw the color drain. He felt the wind pass as his head whirled around, felt his body tense, could hear the sharp intake of breath.

Kaidoh followed Momoshiro's gaze to the door where Ryoma Echizen was standing. Never before had Kaidoh seen his kouhai's face so...broken. Where was the usual smirk? Was it hidden beneath the 'o' of shock? Where was that superior glint in his eye? Was it masked by the look of shock and pain? What about that confident poise? Was it somewhere beneath the trembling body?

"Ryoma, it's not what it looks like!" Momoshiro cried out, slipping away from Kaidoh.

"Mada mada dane," Echizen said, his mouth hardening, his body tensing, but his eyes never loosing that hurt expression. Before Momoshiro could react he had slammed the door shut, and Kaidoh could hear the pounding of Echizen's feet down the staircase, heard the slam of the front door.

Momoshiro stood facing the door, hand outstretched.

"I think ... you had better leave, Kaidoh," Momoshiro said at last, the words sounding as if he were about to choke on them.

"Momo - " Kaidoh began as he rose from the bed.

"Leave!" Momoshiro snarled, not turning to look at Kaidoh, his shoulders hunched and tense. And shaking.

All of a sudden a realization hit Kaidoh. A sick feeling settled in his stomach, like a lump of cold iron. What had he done?

Kaidoh made no further noises, made no attempt at conversation as he gathered the bag with his wet clothes in it and headed for the door.

He paused just outside it, turning to Momoshiro. "I'm sorry," he said for the first time in his life.

"Just go," Momoshiro said, hiding his face from Kaidoh.

But Kaidoh knew. Kaidoh knew that Momoshiro was crying. Crying like he had.

Kaidoh turned away and shut the door.

He left the house with no sound, shutting the front door quietly and heading out into the fresh sunshine, making the lonely trek back to his home. Some part of him knew that the air around him was warm and muggy from the rain the sunshine.

So why was it that he still felt so cold?

**End Part 1**

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R&R is appreciated. Hope everyone likes :) - OB -


	2. Who Can Make Things Right?

**Human Error: Part 2**

Four days. It had been four terrible days since that one rainy moment in time.

Kaidoh spent the remainder of that day at home, locked in his room, fighting off the whirlwind of guilt and hurt that fought for dominance in his brain. He didn't like Momo, would probably never hang out with him on a whim. That was not what Momo was to him. Momo was his rival, a person he looked to so that he might measure his own progress and whose opinion he valued when it came to his strength. Even then, he had to fight down the feeling of needing to wretch when he thought about what he had done. He had not done it on purpose, but he knew the fault lay with him all the same.

Somehow he managed to make himself get up and go to school the next day for morning practice. The other regulars were there, including Inui. Kaidoh could not make himself look at the older tennis player without all the feelings from the night before returning. He had gone to his cubby and gotten dressed, ignoring him even though it was one of the most painful things he had ever done. And somewhere in the back of his mind he felt the absence of two players - Momoshiro and Ryoma.

His stomach did a flip-flop as he made his way out to the courts for morning training, and as practice wore on and neither showed he had to excuse himself to go to the washroom. There he finally gave in to the guilt, let his body physically try to relieve itself of the emotion. No one came after him to see if he was all right, and in a way that hurt more than them thinking him so weak he needed help. A part of him still wanted Inui to care, to come and see if the team's precious Viper had passed out in a stall. But he didn't. How could he expect him to, when he hadn't even shown up that day in the rain?

Class had been even worse, mostly because it meant he had to be in close proximity to Momoshiro. Even someone who didn't know Momoshiro well could see that something was wrong. His usual cheerful competitiveness was gone. In its place sat a listlessness, just barely allowing him to move through the motions of the day. Kaidoh had tried to say something, anything all, tried to apologize once more. But the look Momoshiro had given him stopped him in its tracks. It was not one of anger, nor hatred, or blame.

It was a bone deep sadness, like a lovebird waiting for the end after its mate had passed on. It radiated from his eyes like a living thing, and Kaidoh could see Momoshiro slowly withering away, even if his physical body did not show it yet.

After that, Kaidoh could not meet Momoshiro's eyes, and Momoshiro refused to look at him.

And so four days had passed in that manner. The practices where Kaidoh would avoid Inui at all costs, and if he had to speak to the man it was with barely a grunt, even though that very action cut a new wound in his heart. As for Momoshiro and Ryoma - they both avoided practice, and each day Momoshiro seemed to have died a little more inside.

And Kaidoh's guilt built. He would see Momoshiro and have to fight down the guilt else he would wretch again - the feeling was so strong. He could barely walk into the clubroom without the guilt rising, for his cubby was right next to Momoshiro's. And whenever he caught sight of Inui he had to fight the urge to scream, or cry, or any number of things. He almost felt as if his body physically convulsed in pain when he saw the older student - it hurt so much what Inui had done.

But despite the soul wrenching pain and the sickening guilt, Kaidoh knew at least one thing. He had to make things between Momoshiro and Ryoma right. He had not set eyes on the little tennis player since that day, but if Momoshiro's condition was any indication then Ryoma was not doing so well.

But the question was how? Kaidoh was no expert on relationships. He knew that, and so did everyone else. The one real relationship he'd actually wanted so badly he'd staid out in the rain for near an hour for had somehow never even come to fruition. Even if he had been good with relationships, he would still have no idea how to fix the one he had ruined. He could try and tell Ryoma what had happened, but somehow he didn't think that would work. First, he highly doubted Ryoma would want to see him. Second, he didn't think Ryoma would even believe him. He had learned one thing from his mother's soap operas - love made people illogical, and he figured since both were already as illogical as they came it only made things worse or near impossible.

So that meant he had to go to someone for advice. But who? Someone who was obviously in a relationship, naturally.

No answers came immediately to him. He sighed as he got out his tennis shoes during his lunch break, not sure how to approach the problem really. He didn't think he could ask any of the couples in his own class, mostly because they'd run from him the moment he got close and also because he really didn't think Momoshiro or Ryoma would appreciate him asking questions pertaining to them. As far as he knew their relationship had not been publically broadcasted, and he had already done enough damage.

"Hehe, Tezuka, that tickles," a breathy voice giggled in the still of the club room.

Kaidoh froze, a lump of cold settling in his stomach. That had been Fuji's voice. Licking his lips, getting the feeling he was in a situation that was potentially harmful, he peeked around the corner of the cubbies.

He could feel his cheeks flush crimson at the scene that greeted him. Fuji was pressed to the wall, one of the captain's arms around his slim waist and the other supporting Tezuka against the wall. The captain's face was currently pressed to Fuji's neck, which Fuji was baring willfully, and the tensai's arms were wrapped around the buchou's shoulders. Kaidoh knew he shouldn't be watching, but he became even more fascinated when Fuji righted his head and forced Tezuka to stop. The tensai removed Tezuka's glasses, his lips splayed in a sultry grin, and then the two were mouth to mouth, pressed much closer together. Kaidoh knew he should look away, but it was sort of like a train wreck, watching the two most powerful players on his tennis team making out in the clubroom.

Oh lord, what did he do? He had to get out, but if he moved then he'd be directly in Fuji's line of sight and the tensai would know Kaidoh had seen them. Shit, what did he do? Seriously, he did not want to be witness to this.

Gritting his teeth, Kaidoh decided he'd deal with the consequences later. Being stuck here could be potentially worse than being seen running for the hills. Gripping his shoes, he dashed out from behind the cubbies and sprinted for the door and out. He heard no pursuit and neither Tezuka nor Fuji called after him, so for now at least he was safe.

But that still left him with his problem, and no solution, and the scene from the clubroom was not helping him either. If anything, it was making it harder to think of a solution.

Ignoring the growls of teachers as he stalked through the halls barefoot, Kaidoh made his way up to the roof. He really didn't feel like going to the courts and accidentally meeting Inui. Lord, if that happened...Kaidoh didn't know if he could handle that. Not now. He ran a hand through his hair, sighing as the weight of everything came crashing back down on him. For a moment he felt like collapsing by the door to the roof and laying there, bawling his eyes out.

But only for a moment. Even if he still hurt from Inui, he had to try and set things right with Momo and Ryoma. That much, at least, he should do.

He took a steadying breath, willing the pain to numb itself for a while longer, and opened the door to the roof.

"Oh, hey Kaidoh!" Eiji waved.

Kaidoh blinked, unsure how to take in the picture before him. Eiji was currently situated in Oishi's lap chewing on little sausages cut like octopi, and Oishi seemed perfectly happy with the arrangement. Well, when Kaidoh thought about it, that probably wasn't to strange. Of all the people on the tennis team, Oishi and Eiji were the only ones almost the entire team had practically begged to go out with each other. Anyone with half a brain and a seeing eye dog could tell they were attracted to each other, and ever since the team finally goaded them into going on a massive group date (of which they were the only couple), their doubles improved remarkable.

"It's unusual to see you up here, Kaidoh-san," Takashi said, waving. He was sitting next to the pair, his own bento in his lap, placid since he didn't have a racket.

"Usu," Kaidoh mumbled, coming out onto the roof. In the time he had been walking through the school the sun seemed to have dimmed and clouds were rolling in. He sat down with the group since there seemed little else better to do, and that left him to silently watch Oishi and Eiji be their couply selves as Taka looked over notes from a math class. And as Kaidoh watched, something dawned on him.

"Oishi-sempai, have you and Eiji-sempai ever fought?" he asked.

Oishi blinked. "Well, yeah. Every couple does," he said.

"I mean...fought bad enough to break up?" Kaidoh pressed, feeling his neck get warm.

Oishi frowned. "Well, once, but that was before we were an official couple. Why? Did something happen Kaidoh?"

Kaidoh licked his lips. "No...not to me," he said.

Eiji furrowed his brow. "You aren't making any sense, Kaidoh."

"I...that is...look, something happened and now Momoshiro and Echizen are fighting," Kaidoh explained as vaguely as he could.

"That's not good," Kawamura commented quietly.

"No, it isn't," Oishi agreed. "But I don't think it's your place to interfere, Kaidoh."

No, no, he couldn't loose this! He had to make it right! He had to! "The reason they're fighting...is because of me," he elaborated slightly.

"Wait, how is it because of you?" Eiji asked, shifting in Oishi's lap to face Kaidoh head on.

Shit, he hadn't wanted to explain this part. The guilt was welling up again, hard and strong, and for a moment he had to close his eyes and compose himself else he'd wretch all over again. He knew it wasn't his place to expose Momoshiro's and Ryoma's relationship, but at the same time he desperately needed to make things right. Which was the less evil?

"Momoshiro and Ryoma were going out. Momo...Momo took me to his house and I was...upset. Somehow I ended up, um, kissing him, and Ryoma saw, and now...haven't you seen them? They look awful," he said in perhaps one of the longest speeches of his life.

The three upperclassmen stared at him for a very long time. Kaidoh couldn't tell if they looked on him with reproach, but for whatever reason the guilt came rushing back like a tidal wave. He clutched his stomach and bent over, dry heaving since he had not managed to hold anything down that morning at breakfast. Takashi was by his side in an instant, rubbing his back. Kaidoh fought back tears of frustration. Why? Why was this happening? All he wanted was to make things right!

"Have you tried talking to them?" Oishi asked quietly once Kaidoh had composed himself.

"Momoshiro won't even look at me," Kaidoh managed as he sat up, avoiding eye contact.

"That makes it more difficult," Oishi mused. Eiji was watching his boyfriend, his normally bright face screwed up into a mask of worry. "But, I think I have an idea."

Kaidoh turned to look at his sempai, hope fluttering in his stomach for the first time in days.

"But it may not work," Oishi warned Kaidoh. "And we'll need help."

Please, please anything to make this guilt go away, to make up for his sins. Please, he just wanted to be able to look at least one person in the face again.

"Thank you, Oishi-sempai," Kaidoh said, his voice sounding torn and rough even to his ears.

Oishi smiled and reached over, gently patting Kaidoh's shoulder. "Anything for the team," he said.

Kaidoh nodded, feeling somewhat better.

He looked up at the sky as a shadow passed overhead.

And felt the first drops of rain.

**Part 2 End**

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You know how it goes. Comment, please. 3 - OB -


	3. Pain, Inevitable Suffering, Optional

**Human Error: Part 3**

Kaidoh twitched nervously as he waited for Momoshiro outside of school a few days after speaking to Oishi-sempai about the problem. Oishi, Eiji, and Kawamura had taken care of everything else, but this part was up to Kaidoh. Oishi figured that if any one could, Kaidoh could at least get Momoshiro to resist his downward slide for a moment and come.

Kaidoh had not felt proud, but unfortunately part of the plan had involved Tezuka, since Oishi thought that was possibly one of the only people at this point that could get through to Echizen. That meant divulging his sin to even more people. Did that mean Inui would find out too? Kaidoh couldn't bring himself to ask Oishi to ere on the side of caution with that part of the plan, to ashamed and the wounds still to tender for him to be able to force something like that out of his mouth.

At any rate, he just sincerely hoped that Momoshiro would at least listen to him. When Oishi said this might not work, Kaidoh had been under the impression that Oishi meant a small chance, as if the plan hinged on the rain or something. But, no. Oishi meant that it might not work because Kaidoh was a main factor of it.

Guilt still bubbled in his stomach whenever he saw Momo, making talking to him difficult. It wasn't as if Momoshiro talked anymore. His eyes slowly sunk further into his face and Kaidoh was sure he was seeing the beginnings of bags under Momoshiro's eyes. Was he sleeping? He surely wasn't eating, and he definitely was not doing anything socially. If his mistake with Momoshiro had caused this much pain, then the two must have been quiet close. For another moment Kaidoh had to fight the urge to vomit once again as guilt slammed down hard, his body by now conditioned to try and rid itself physically of the sensation.

Normally Kaidoh welcomed the guilt. He'd let it build up, swamping him, blocking out the aching pain that was Inui's betrayal. But right now he had to keep it down, because right now he had to make something go right in his life - and if not his, at least he would not live his life burdened with the shame of knowing he had ruined two of his rivals in a single moment. It was a thing no one should be proud of.

"Momo," Kaidoh hissed as the once passionate tennis player appeared outside the school. Kaidoh learned Momoshiro never immediately went home now. He thought it was to keep up the illusion to his parents that he still had tennis practice, but Kaidoh never found out where he spent his time. At any rate, he at least knew Momoshiro appeared around the time tennis practice ended, and always from the front.

Momoshiro seemed to physically flinch as Kaidoh hissed his name. He made no sound, did not even look at Kaidoh, and gave him a wide berth, heading around him to the front gate.

"Damn it, Momoshiro, I'm talking to you," Kaidoh snarled, running after Momoshiro.

Momoshiro kept his head down, kept his eyes facing the dirt.

"Momoshiro, please, we need to talk," Kaidoh said, trying to soften his angry hiss as he kept pace with Momoshiro.

"What is there to talk about?" Momoshiro asked.

Kaidoh didn't show it, but the sound of Momo's voice shocked him. It sounded...rough, raw. As if he had been crying or screaming a lot. And at the edges it grated, like someone who had not spoken for ages. What did Momo do to make his voice sound like that? To make himself look as if he was barely clinging to life anymore?

"Please, just come with me and talk for just a bit," Kaidoh pleaded, or at least tried to. His lack of social skills and expressing proper emotion made his request sound like a hissed demand and he knew it.

Momoshiro stopped and for the first time in over a week looked directly at him. Kaidoh took a step back, a bit shocked. Momoshiro's eyes were a mixture of emotion he had never seen. There was that lifelessness to them, the pits of despair Momoshiro seemed to have fallen into and that Kaidoh would probably be trapped into if not for the mind-numbing guilt he felt over what he had done to his rival. Yet mixed with the lifelessness laid that ocean deep sadness, swimming in his eyes like lazy fish - sluggish and poisonous, eating away at him. And deeper still, but still there for Kaidoh to see, was blame. It was faint, nearly swallowed by the loss of will and the sadness, but it was there. Kaidoh felt his stomach clench, knowing where that blame was aimed, and knowing he deserved it.

"Just for a moment," Kaidoh pleaded, quieter this time, casting his eyes down as he was unable to meet Momoshiro's any longer.

There was a moment of silence that seemed to stretch for eternity. "Fine," Momoshiro relented, but it sounded more as if he was accepting defeat to Kaidoh.

"Thank you," Kaidoh said. "This way." He shrugged his bag into a more secure position and headed down the street.

There was no more talking between him and Momo. They walked side by side, but there was a gap between them - huge and nearly tangible - filled with the unsaid things between them: Why did you kiss me? Why did you kiss me back? What happens now? Why is all this happening? What do I do? It's your fault. Why mine? Why you?

Kaidoh ignored it as best as he could, secretly letting out a sigh of relief as he mounted the steps towards the small, public tennis court near the school. Momoshiro's steps faltered behind him, just for a moment, but Kaidoh dared not turn around. Momoshiro would not thank him for acknowledging his weakness.

"Here," Kaidoh said as they reached the top.

"Kaidoh, what's the meaning of - " Momoshiro ground to a halt when he saw where Kaidoh had led him.

The Seigaku regulars were settled on the stands, turned to look back as Momoshiro and Kaidoh appeared at the top of the steps. On the courts themselves sat Tezuka in the coach' s chair, and at the baseline stood Echizen, racquet in his hand, his hat pulled down in his face. But Kaidoh saw the set of his lips, the hard line they formed, saw his fist grip his racket a little tighter, shake the tiniest bit. Yes, Echizen was suffering too.

"Momoshiro," Tezuka called, rising from his spot on the coach's bench. The captain turned sharply, almost military style, and glared up at the power player. "Momoshiro, please step on to the court. This is your match."

Momoshiro stood stock still as if his body was made of stone. Kaidoh licked his lips nervously, turning on the step he occupied and looked up at Momoshiro. "Don't make the captain wait," he hissed, glad his outward appearance did not allow his worry or his guilt to seep into his voice.

In the next instant was he splayed across the benches, his cheek burning and the warm, sticky feeling of blood running down his chin. He lay there dazed, not quite sure what had happened. But he could hear the labored breathing of Momoshiro, the shocked cries of Oishi.

"Momo, that was uncalled for," a deep voice said, and Kaidoh felt hands lift under his arms, righting him.

He knew those hands. They had touched him many times during his training, and that voice had been a comfort when he felt frustrated. It was Inui. Oh, god, it was Inui. Kaidoh fought down the pain that tore through his heart, threatened to send him into convulsions as his very soul twisted in pain. How? How could Inui touch him like this after what he had done? He fought so hard to try and wrench himself from the grasp of the older player, but his body had ached for this even while his mind was slowly tearing itself to pieces, and his body would not obey him. Gods, why was he doing this to himself?

"Momoshiro, get on the court," Tezuka's voice rang out. It was the voice of a reason and of power, a voice no one could ignore nor dared to.

Kaidoh wiped the blood from his chin, doing his best to ignore the presence of the man that stood behind him, the one he had so desperately wanted but who had so horribly betrayed him. Momoshiro looked, for a moment, as if he would refuse the Captain's order, but thankfully his self-preservation instinct kicked in and Momoshiro descended the steps to the court, keeping his head bowed and not facing the Captain. Through all of this, Ryoma had remained at the baseline, stuck in the position Kaidoh had first seen him in.

Tezuka grabbed Momoshiro's hand and slapped a racket in to it. "Play Echizen," he ordered with his usual lack of concern for the feelings of others.

"I'm sorry sir, I can't," Momoshiro said in a raw whisper.

"Play Echizen," Tezuka repeated, moving to climb into the caller's chair.

"Sir, I - " Momoshiro began.

The big player was cut off as a ball whizzed past his feet, barely missing crushing his foot with the force of it. Momoshiro reeled, turning to stare at Echizen. Kaidoh felt himself shiver at the look on Echizen's face. Anger, sadness, and an overwhelming hurt vied for position in his eyes, all mixing and blending in a weird sort of collage. His mouth was clenched and Kaidoh could practically hear the air hissing from between the little player's teeth. He could see the muscles quivering, the shimmer in Echizen's eyes that said tears could come but Echizen was too proud to let them.

"One set match, Echizen to serve," Tezuka said calmly. "Fifteen, love."

Momoshiro stared at Tezuka for a moment, and Kaidoh wondered if Momoshiro would deck the captain like he had Kaidoh. But no. Momoshiro still had some reason left within him, and he went to the court, setting up to receive Echizen's serve for the second point of the match.

It was, perhaps, the most gut-wrenching game Kaidoh had ever witnessed. From the first serve Momoshiro returned, they began to hit with all their strength. Momoshiro practically screamed as he put all his power behind a Jack Knife or a Dunk Smash. Echizen didn't go that far, but one could tell he was straining as he put massive spin and power behind his shots. As the match wore on and neither gave in, it became more heated. Neither seemed to care if the ball went in or out, or if they even won the point. The court seemed to be closing itself off in its own little world, even forcing Tezuka's presence aside.

Kaidoh watched as that court's world seemed to narrow, as everything was blocked out and all there was for the two was the ball and themselves. Never before had he seen Momoshiro play with such desperate power, or Echizen with such anger behind his shots. It was like watching two completely different people, and Kaidoh shuddered as he realized this was what his mistake he brought them to this.

"Echizen!" Oishi cried out in shock.

Kaidoh was glad at least Oishi had the power to cry out a protest. But it was to late. Momoshiro had gotten to a ball late, throwing it up in a lob. Echizen rushed the net, leaping up at and swinging down with all the force of his little body. It wasn't a normal smash though. Kaidoh could see the ball spinning erratically, watched it curve...and hit Momoshiro square in the face.

Momoshiro went down, clutching at his face and moaning. Kaidoh saw the scarlet dripping onto the court, watched in fascination as Echizen stared at his former boyfriend, his shoulders heaving, that tiny body drenched in sweat. Momoshiro made no attempts to get up. In fact, Kaidoh could see his body shaking, could see the wet glisten of tears running from his eyes to drip down and mingle with the blood on the court.

For awhile the only sounds were the uneven breathing of Ryoma and the quiet sobs of Momoshiro.

And then Ryoma had leapt over the net, sprinting for Momoshiro. He slid to a stop and fell to his knees, wrapping his arms around the older man's shoulders. He pressed his forehead to Momo's, saying something Kaidoh couldn't hear. But whatever he had said it made Momoshiro stop sobbing for a moment, looking up at Echizen with so much hope it was painful. Echizen's head moved in the barest hint of a nod, and Momoshiro's face collapsed into a look of such relief it was like a slap to Kaidoh.

Momoshiro wiped at the blood from his nose hurriedly even though he was still leaning against Echizen. Ryoma just sat there, a look of such profound peace on his face that Kaidoh felt disgusting for envying it. Then the two were kissing, Ryoma's arms tightening around Momoshiro in a death grip as Momoshiro clutched the little body to him like a lifeline.

Was that what they were to each other? A completion of the other's soul? Was that it might look like to others if he kissed Inui? Would they share the same passion? The same need for each other that had driven Momoshiro to the point of letting himself slide into death without a sound?

Kaidoh looked over the other regulars. Oishi and Eiji were smiling, Oishi cuddling Eiji. Taka was smiling, flushing a bit, rubbing the back of his head. Fuji and Tezuka stood close together, hands at their sides, but close enough so that the fingers brushed. Envy and sickness welled up in his stomach as he took in the sight, his eyes traveling back to Ryoma and Momoshiro, still trapped in their own little world of kisses gone to long without and touches they had craved.

"Kaidoh," Inui's voice broke through, jabbing through Kaidoh like an arrow. He felt that hand descend oh so softly on his own, gently scraping the skin. "Kaidoh, could we talk?" Inui asked him.

Talk? Why? What reason was there to talk? So he could explain why he hadn't shown up? Kaidoh wanted that answer, oh how he wanted it. But fear sprang up, wild and unharnessed, clouding his mind. He couldn't know. He just couldn't. What if Inui told him that the note had been a prank? That the only reason he paid attention to Kaidoh was because he was nothing more than his double's partner? An interesting experiment? He couldn't handle it if Inui said something like that. He just couldn't.

"There's nothing to talk about, sempai," he said, forcing ice to coat his words as he yanked his hand away.

"Kaidoh," Inui protested, reaching out again.

No, Kaidoh couldn't bear it. Not now. Not after seeing what Momoshiro and Ryoma had, feeling so dirty for wanting what they had and envying them for it. He couldn't take his heart being torn open again.

So he did the only thing he knew to do.

He ran.

He blocked out the protests of Inui, the shocked cries of the other regulars. He didn't care. He just couldn't face the answers he so longed for. He didn't know what he would do if they were the answers he feared most. Pain gnawed at his soul like a dog with a bone as he ran, his lungs laboring as he fought to take in air with his mad dash and not cry. His muscles burned and screamed in protest as he forced them to run when all they wanted to do was collapse into Inui's arms.

Even the clouds seemed to sympathize with him, seemed to feel his pain, since they opened up their hearts and tears poured forth in a torrent of rain. Each droplet stung, another dagger to drive home what had happened that day before the coffee shop. Before he knew it he was soaked to the bone, but he didn't care. As the cold set in it would numb the pain, make it easier to keep himself moving while his heart quietly bled.

His mind became blank. All he knew was that he was running, that each breath was harder to take, each step like igniting a fire in his muscles. He didn't know where he was running too, wasn't even sure if he could see anymore. All he could think to do was to run. To run till it killed him, till it took away the fear, the doubt, and the pain. He just had to keep running.

It was odd. He didn't think that the air around him was supposed to feel so wet and prickly. Why was it so hard to push through it? Why did it feel like his feet weren't moving? Why did he have such a clear view of the river as its banks swelled from the rain?

Wait. The river.

Ah. He was lying down. Yes, he was lying down by the river where he trained with Inui. In the back of his mind he knew if the rain got worse he'd need to move or the river would swallow him, but his body wouldn't answer his call. He couldn't make himself move.

How odd that that thought didn't worry him.

Well, it didn't matter now. He was just so tired. Every limb, every bone, every muscle ached. His heart beat painfully in his chest, his lungs felt as if fire seared them every time he took in air. A drink from the river would be nice. If only it would move a little closer...

The river was moving away, and at a very odd angle. Oh, and where was the prickly sense from the grass? Why did parts of him suddenly feel so arm?

He turned, somehow recognizing the bright splash of blue and white as a jersey. Who's? Not his. He didn't have it on. He took it off to run. Did it matter? He suddenly felt so cold, so very, very cold. Was the blue and white jersey warm? He leaned his head against it, noting with some amount of disappointment it wasn't warm, just wet. But it felt better than the ground. Besides, his arm and legs were feeling warmer, so it was okay.

"This is one of the most illogical things you have ever done."

He knew that voice. He did. But his mind couldn't place it. His mind told him that wherever he was, it was comfortable. So that meant he should go to sleep.

Yes, sleep.

Sleep was good.

And the white and blue jersey was comfortable.

Sleep...

**End of Part 3**


	4. Courage to Forgive

**Human Error: Part 4**

It was warm.

That was the first thing Kaidoh comprehended as he blinked heavy eyes open.

With a groan he shifted position, coming to realize he was on his back. His muscles screamed protest, but he ignored them and pushed himself into a sitting position. He felt covers slide off his chest...his bare chest. He glanced down at the offending sheet, which was colored a plain greenish color not unlike that of Yamabuki's jersey. It took him a full minute to register that his sheets were not that color.

Worry creeped through the fog numbing his brain and he looked around the room. He was situated in the bed, placed in the middle of the room against the wall, two windows framing it. Against the wall across from him and to his left sat a desk with a computer, a cup with numerous pens, and several notebooks stacked neatly atop it. To the side of the desk a large bookshelf made itself comfortable, filled with thick tombs and in fact had an entire shelf devoted entirely to notebooks. A closet was to his right, the doors open, revealing neatly hung and folded clothing, a blue and white tennis bag set neatly in a corner.

As he took it all in the notion slowly dawned on him that this was not his room.

And if it was not his room, then whose was it? Where was he? Why was he in a strange bed with no shirt?

He glanced at the clock sitting on the nightstand next to him. It glowed cheerfully in the dim room, declaring it was seven thirty.

The plan for Momoshiro and Ryoma had been set in motion at three thirty. Why couldn't he remember the past four hours? Well, that was a lie. He could remember fragments of it. He remembered the burning sensation of his lungs, remembered the feel of his muscles straining as he forced himself to keep taking step after step. He remembered the sensation of rain pelting against his skin like thousands of tiny needles. And he remembered something warm, something strong.

But who...?

"Ah, you're awake."

Kaidoh jumped, his entire body flashing with pinprinks of pain, his muscles still to sore from his mindless running to achieve more range of motion than sitting still.

Why the hell had Inui just walked through the door?

At the same time that thought crossed his mind, he again comprehended his shirt was no longer on his body. He gritted his teeth and bore the sting of sore, overworked muscles as he grabbed the comforter, pulling it up to give himself some decency. He felt foolish and to much like a girl doing it, but the thought of Inui seeing him like this...well, there were worse things, though not many.

"Here," Inui said, setting down a glass of orange juice and several pills by the clock. "They'll help reduce the fever and the pain."

Kaidoh watched Inui carefully as the older tennis player took a seat at his desk, turning the rolling chair to face Kaidoh. Kaidoh gulped, but knew that to take the pills he'd have to let go of the comforter. He smacked his lips a couple of times, suddenly realizing he was incredibly thirsty, and that his cheeks felt hot - and not from blushing. Maybe he was really running a fever. Damn. The team had a tournament in just over a week. He couldn't be sick.

He dropped the comforter and grabbed the glass and pills. It took him several tries to down them all, but he did, and he drained the orange juice to boot. He set the glass on the table, suddenly feeling woozy, and lay back down. His back sighed in relief, the muscles unclenching as he relaxed. He drew a hand over his face, willing himself to calm down. His heart was beating a mile a minute, and it was all he could do to keep himself from labored breathing.

So it had been Inui that had picked him up. It was true the spot he had collapsed in actually wasn't that far from either of their homes, but that raised the question as to why Inui brought Kaidoh to his home. It would have been easier for him to just hand him off to his parents at the house. At the very least his little brother could have taken care of him till his mother or father got home. So why bring him to Inui's own home and put him in Inui's bed where he had probably been sleeping for the past several hours?

"You gave me quite a scare," Inui said, his voice drifting through the silence like a cannonball through a ship's side. "When you suddenly ran off none of us knew what to think. It was most unlike you, Kaidoh-kun."

And what would Inui know of him? Did he know how he had waited so long in the rain for him? Did he know how many hours Kaidoh had spent crying over him?

"Hn," he grunted from his position on the bed, suddenly to tired to try anything more elaborate.

"It was a good thing I knew your pattern. When we're upset, our body's memories take over. I thought you might head for the river," Inui continued, but it sounded forced.

Ah, so he was predictable. How comforting.

"Hn," he said again. He liked that answer. It gave nothing away. It didn't tell Inui the pain he was feeling, didn't tell him how much he wanted to curl up and cry right now.

Silence spread between them, a roiling ocean that seemed utterly uncrossable. Inui was barely five feet away, but to Kaidoh it felt like five miles.

"Kaidoh," Inui said softly.

Kaidoh gripped the sheets tightly on the side of his body Inui couldn't see. He wouldn't let Inui see him like this. "Hai?" he grunted.

"About...about the note for the Coffee Lounge...," Inui began.

Oh, oh lord please no. Why? Why did Inui feel the need to talk about this? Why? What cruel god was making him go through this torture? Kaidoh had spent hours trying to block that out, trying to rid himself of the soul shattering pain that came with that moment. He could not block it out entirely, but he had at least managed to numb the pain, managed to make the wound close, even if only the tiniest bit. It was still raw and sore, but he managed to make it stop bleeding.

And now, with barely ten words, Inui had ripped it wide open, and he could see it spilling crimson across his chest.

"I - "

"I waited," Kaidoh cut Inui off before the other man could say anything else. "I waited for you."

There was a long minute of silence. Far longer than Kaidoh thought necessary for a reply. "Ah," Inui said at last.

"Ah?" Kaidoh repeated in a grunt. "That's all?"

"You actually went," Inui murmured.

Was it that surprising that he went? Inui had sent him the note. Didn't Inui know how he felt? How many hours had they spent training together? Didn't Inui know Kaidoh better than anyone? Kaidoh had thought Inui intuitively knew his moods, could read his emotions like a book. Normally that would have bothered Kaidoh, but if it was Inui that was okay. So why did it surprise Inui he had shown up?

"I waited in the rain," Kaidoh elaborated slightly.

"That must be when that mess with Momoshiro and Echizen started," Inui deduced aloud.

How the mess had started? Was that where Inui's thoughts were going?

"You were over an hour and a half late," Kaidoh stated into the thick air.

That silence fell again. Kaidoh was glad he couldn't see Inui from his position. He didn't know if he could survive the look he thought he might see.

"I meant to come," Inui offered.

Meant to, but didn't.

Inui sucked in air. "I...I got scared."

Scared? Of what? Of Kaidoh? Oh, that was perfect.

"I kept thinking: what if I show up and he's not there? I couldn't...I was scared," Inui offered lamely.

Something sparked in Kaidoh. He was scared? He had worried he wouldn't be there?

"So you left me standing there instead?" Kaidoh hissed.

"I...I mean...Kaidoh, I'm sorry," Inui said.

Something cold welled up inside Kaidoh. It flowed through him, eating away him, blocking everything from his mind but two simple words.

_I'm sorry_.

It dawned on Kaidoh that the cold wasn't cold at all. It was white hot. It burned his lungs, seared his heart, made his blood boil, and his mind whirl. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and pushed himself up. He didn't know how he made himself do it, but he did. He felt the cold of the floor beneath his feet, relishing the stark contrast between the icy carpet and the fury that raged through him.

"Ah, Kaidoh, don't get up! You still need to lie down!" Inui protested, rising.

He felt his fist clench, welcomed the distracting pain that his nails brought as they dug into his palm. He heard his muscles creak as he pulled his arm back, shivered as cool air ran over his first as he swung at Inui. In the same instant a wave of dizziness washed over him, and his aim faltered. He had intended to hit Inui square between the eyes, but he stumbled and his fist met Inui's soft cheek instead. Nonetheless, cold glee rang through him as he felt the resistance, as he swung through and heard the thud of Inui's body hitting the floor. Vaguely he heard the clatter of glasses, knew he had knocked them off Inui's face.

He looked down, meeting Inui's gaze. It had a stunned expression, one hand - the one he used to write with, the one that bore a callus built up from holding the pen for long hours at a time - pressed to the rapidly reddening cheek. His lips were parted in an 'O' of shock, his eyes opened wide. It was the first time Kaidoh had seen such an expression of the object of his affection's face, and he felt sick for feeling such joy at being the cause.

"Kaidoh?" Inui whispered, his voice sounding raw, even hurt.

"Sorry?" Kaidoh hissed. "Sorry?" His voice rose. "That's all you have to say to me? Sorry?" he knew he was screaming by the end, and he didn't try to restrain himself.

Inui physically reeled back at Kaidoh's words, that stunned expression never leaving his face.

"I waited for you for nearly two hours!" Kaidoh thundered. "I waited for you, even when it began to pour rain and everyone else had left! I kept waiting for a phone call, something to tell me why you were late. I waited, god damnit!"

Inui righted himself, pushing to his feet, his cheek already red and would probably be bruised within the next twenty minutes.

"For a full friggin' week you wouldn't even talk to me! You acted as if nothing was wrong! And now - now of all times - you tell me it was because you were friggin' scared that you didn't show up? That you left me standing there waiting for you? And all you have to say for yourself is that you're sorry?" Kaidoh continued on, everything pouring out of him, the floodgates all but smashed to pieces. "Do you know what you did to me? Do you? Do you know how many hours I spent crying over you? How long I spent hoping that one day you would ask me out to a place like that? Do you know how much pain I've been in since that day? Do you? Do you!"

He paused to catch his breath, his chest heaving as if he had just run six miles. Inui was staring at him with a shocked expression, but this time his mouth was just slightly parted, his eyebrows wrinkled, and his eyes glistening.

"Do you know how much I cared, Inui-sempai? Do you know how much it hurt to have the one dream I truly wanted to come true crushed?" he asked quietly, barely above a whisper.

Inui cast his eyes down, and Kaidoh saw his shoulders tense as he clenched his fists. "Kaidoh," he choked. "Oh, Kaidoh, I'm so sorry. I just...I liked you so much, but I couldn't...I was scared that I was only seeing what I wanted to see. I was scared that you didn't really care about me, and...and...oh, I'm so sorry."

Well sorry wasn't good enough. Not now.

"Kaidoh, please, can we start over?" Inui asked, reaching for him. "I mean, we both like each other. We just both made mistakes."

Both of them had made mistakes?

"Please, Kaidoh," Inui whispered. "I care for you so much."

They were the words he had so much wanted to hear. His heart fluttered and for a moment another wave of dizziness overcame him. Inui liked him! Truly liked him! He felt as if his soul would burst from joy. But at the same time those words fell somehow...hollow. No, not hollow. He believed them. He truly did, and he was so happy to hear them. They were what he always wanted. Inui was what he always wanted.

But he couldn't forgive Inui for the pain he had caused him. Not now, at least.

Kaidoh stepped out of Inui's reach, crossing his arms over his chest, suddenly very aware of the fact he was shirtless. "Please, Inui-sempai, get my shirt for me. I need to go home."

Inui's face crumpled like a house made of cards. "Kaidoh-" he started, but stopped himself. He bit his lip and nodded. He bent and put his glasses back on, leaving the room with oppressing silence wrapped around him like a cloak.

Kaidoh stood there alone in Inui's room. His mind couldn't decide which he should do. Should he cry for joy, or out of frustration? Shouldn't he be elated that Inui felt the same way he did? Wasn't he just within reach of what he had envied Momoshrio and Ryoma for? Wasn't this what he had always wanted? But if that was so, why had Inui caused him so much pain? Why had he spent so many hours crying his heart out over this? Why had he spent a week making himself sick and barely sleeping? Why was he finding out about Inui's affections only after he had nearly gotten himself killed by running recklessly through the rain?

"Here, Kaidoh," Inui said, drawing Kaidoh out of his thoughts.

Kaidoh reached out, taking the shirt, feeling a jolt as he and Inui's fingers brushed. With shaky arms he pulled his shirt on, noting that it was wonderfully warm, fresh out of a dyer. He smoothed it down, somehow dragging up the courage to look at Inui in the eyes.

"Inui-sempai, I...I really like you. You don't know how happy it makes me to know you like me," he began.

"Then why can't - " Inui attempted.

Kaidoh cut him off, "But right now what you did to me is still there. It hurts Inui, very much. So, right now, I just can't be around you. Not now. I need time...time to forgive you."

Inui said nothing, just stared back at Kaidoh.

"I'll talk to you tomorrow, at school," Kaidoh said, licking his lips. He nodded to Inui and moved past him and out the door, struck by how familiar this whole scene was as he put on his shoes.

"Kaidoh."

Kaidoh stopped and turned, looking up the stairs at Inui.

"Do you want me to bring you some more of that orange juice tomorrow?" he asked.

Kaidoh paused, looking up at Inui. "Yeah," he said at last. "Thank you." He turned the knob and stepped out to the street, noting that this time there was no sunshine to make him feel cold.

* * *

"Doubles two will be Kaido, Inui pair," Tezuka announced the day of the tournament.

No one was overly surprised by that statement, not even Kaidoh. It was mostly because Tezuka was repeating what he had told them earlier at a meeting the beginning to the week than anything, but everyone had also known that the strongest doubles pair besides the Golden Pair Seigaku had was Inui and Kaidoh.

The week since the...well, Kaidoh wasn't sure what to call it, since it hadn't exactly been a fight and more like a confession - since the week passed Kaidoh slowly spent more and more time with Inui. The first day had been rough. He went home that night after leaving Inui's house and found himself crying once more. It was partly for joy, partly for pain, and partly because he was scared.

It was weird knowing his feelings were being returned. The notion could not possibly make him happier, but now that he was sure of it, it felt...strange. The anxiety was no longer there, making his stomach do twists and somersaults. Now it was replaced with a sort of...anticipation. He couldn't quite pin down how the whole thing should make him feel, but he did know one thing for certain: Inui liked him.

Still, even with his newfound joy and his anticipation, the wounds on his soul were still raw. He felt childish for not immediately forgiving Inui for what had happened, but at the same time he could not just set it aside so lightly. Even if Inui was scared, he shouldn't have been a coward and not come like that! Or maybe that wasn't what really bothered Kaidoh. Maybe it was the fear that Inui hadn't come because he was scared, but because he seemed to think so lightly of Kaidoh's own feelings. Did he really think Kaidoh would change his mind so quickly? That'd he pine after Inui for months, only to suddenly decide that he no longer had any feelings for him just from one letter?

That thought brought up a flood of rage for the data tennis player, and at the same time himself. Shouldn't he have had the guts to call Inui and ask him why he hadn't shown up? Momo had told him to when he had dragged Kaidoh to his home, but like a frightened child he had not made one move to sort things out. So that meant that part of the blame fell to his shoulders. But it still did not change the fact that Inui had not shown up, and that by doing so he had wounded Kaidoh deeper than anything physical could have.

But somewhere in the hours he had spent crying he uncovered something else. It was tiny, but it was there nonetheless. Prodding at it, he discovered it was the tiniest grain of courage. Somehow he managed to make himself stop his sobbing and work through all that had happened with a more logical mindset. He got his feelings of anger, pain, and joy sorted, each set into their own little slot within him, and slowly he began to sift through them. One by one he examined them, painstakingly so, realizing that by touching each he was opening new wounds and closing others. Still, it was a necessary task.

By the time he got to school the next day, he felt refreshed. Not in the way that said he had gotten the right amount of sleep, because he hadn't, but in the way that said he was all right with the world now. Oh, he was still angry with Inui, and that bitter, immature part of him still refused to forgive him, but that part was a little less hot as he changed in the clubhouse, hissed less violently when Inui walked in and changed with him. Recovering from it all would take time, but it would be time well spent.

Tezuka informed them that day of the line-up, and it was as predictable as ever. For the first time Kaidoh's belly had not done somersaults when Tezuka announced he was to play with Inui. Instead, his heart fluttered and his skin prickled with excitement. The core of bitter hurt and resentment still inside him churned, but it did not overwhelm him. Finding forgiveness for Inui was still a ways off, but for now being near Inui would be enough.

He spent the rest of the week working on their doubles game. At first tension reigned between them, a tangible force Kaidoh thought he could literally grasp and use to return the balls with. The tension seeped into him, making his mind wander to disturbing thoughts. What if his comments the other day made Inui change his mind? Did Inui see him any different now? Did he see him as some immature child? A dangerous snake that would bite him and lead him to his potential demise?

Kaidoh knew such thoughts made his performance suffer, and it showed clearly on the court. Tezuka and Ryuzaki chided him for it, but Kaidoh wondered if Tezuka's scolding had been a little to kind. Did Tezuka know? It wasn't unthinkable. Next to Oishi, and apparantley Fuji, it would be natural that Tezuka would consult with Inui. Kaidoh would have thought that such consultations would be over things pertaining to their tennis matches, but other subjects were not out of the question if Inui somehow managed to maintain a friendly relationship with Tezuka.

But how Tezuka scolded him was not his concern, and he shoved such contemplations from his mind. As the week wore on, the tension faded, and ultimately dissipated. In fact, Kaidoh began to see a remarkable improvement in his game. Inui had all his data, but somehow Kaidoh felt Inui was not using it as they played together - at least not to read what his own movements would be. It was like there was a line between them, delicate and unseen. Kaidoh could feel Inui's movements, knew when Inui was going to fake going right so Kaidoh could intercept a volley, knew when Inui intended to rush the net and that he shouldn't move over. Somehow he began to instinctively perceive what it was Inui wanted him to do. He knew when to smash, when to throw a snake - anything at all he could sense like a gentle nudging in the back of his mind.

The sensations had made him nervous in the beginning. He never liked letting anyone in, and the fact that Inui might be invading his very thoughts was disturbing. But then he wondered if this was how the Golden Pair managed to play the way they did. Oh, certainly he and Inui were not of their caliber and probably never would be. But he still had to wonder if this was the connection, the simple yet complex intertwining of two souls that brought a sort of completion to someone.

And so now here they stood on the day of the tournament, facing off against a school called Gikiji Gakuen, with Inui as his doubles partner.

"Seigaku! Fight-o! Fight-o! Fight-o!"

Kaidoh swung his arms in large, lazy circles as Inui went through his data one more time, slightly amused by the impassioned cheering of the other tennis members that had come to watch them. He took a deep breath and filled his lungs with cool morning air, bouncing on the balls of his feet to get his leg muscles warmed up. He caught sight of Echizen and Momoshiro, standing close together without actually broadcasting the fact they were doing so out of being a couple. Echizen threw him his usual arrogant smirk, and Kaidoh fought the urge to flick the little tennis member off. If Echizen was producing such emotions from him then everything had to be all right between him and Momoshiro. Kaidoh would never say it aloud, but he was glad. Rivals were like friends in a way that only rivals could understand, and Momoshiro's pain had been very real for Kaidoh. It made him content to see the two as they should be.

"You'll serve first," Inui informed Kaidoh as they stepped onto the court.

Kaidoh nodded, that sensation in the back of his mind sparking for an instant. In his mind's eye he could see his serve, it's severe spin with a straight line hit, his interpretation of Rikkai Dai's Yagyuu's Laser Beam. It would make perfect sense to hit that shot considering how the Gikiji players stood, and he somehow understood that this match was already theirs. His highly aggressive style coupled with Inui's more reserved tactics would destroy the two opposing players like a tiger's claws tearing through paper.

"One set match, Seigaku's Kaidoh to serve!"

He bounced the ball twice and then threw it up, feeling his thigh muscles bunch as he bent his knees, preparing to twist his hips in concert with his arm to produce the necessary spin for his serve. He hit with a satisfying crack, watching as Inui ever so slightly leaned to the left, the ball breezing centimeters from his ear. Kaidoh restrained a smile as he prepared for the unlikely return, relaxing when none came.

Cheers erupted around him at the ace, but he did not let himself gloat. There was a very real possibility that Inui did not get all the data he could, and he would need to pay close attention to both the opposing players and Inui to make the match a success.

The points were tending to be swiftly won. That instinctive knowledge of his partner kept tickling the back of his mind, and they filled the gaps for each other seamlessly, or so Kaidoh thought. They made mistakes, which he was not pleased about, but knew were inevitable at some point. Still, most of the points went to Seigaku, with barely five actual rallies at the five games to love point. It left Kaidoh feeling somewhat disappointed. He had expected more out of them, had wished for a better challenge.

But something nagged at him as he waited to receive the serve from the Gikiji player for the last game. He couldn't quite pick out what it was. It prodded at him as he worked through a forehand motion, bit at his conscious as he returned with a backhand, which produced a stab of pain as the connection between Inui gave him the vague idea he needed to approach the net.

He reached up, leaping towards the sky and crushed his racquet against a lob the opposing pair had sent him. Unfortunately the ball was not at a favorable angle, and Kaidoh somehow knew that the Gikiji baseline player would return it. He also knew that the awkward leap for the smash would leave him unbalanced, and that would leave the court wide open.

He watched in a sort of morbid fascination as the Gikiji base liner skidded across the court and wrenched their shoulders through a hasty forehand, sending the ball on a crosscourt line that Kaidoh could not intercept.

Inui appeared, legs extended in a way that said he had rapidly switched from a back pedal to the baseline to an all out dash for the net. Kaidoh clearly saw Inui's shoulders bunch as he met the forehand crosscourt shot head on before it even bounced. He winced as Inui's wrist twisted sharply, followed by his elbow, and the older tennis player grunted as he forced his shoulders through the motion of the forehand. Kaidoh didn't need to see the ball to know the crazy amount of spin Inui had just placed on it, and it seemed the ball moved with a lazy carelessness to the earth, grazing the doubles outside line and sliding low over the ground well out of reach of either Gikiji player.

"Game and match. Seigaku, six games to love!" the umpire announced, the Seigaku side of the stands erupting into wild cheers.

"There was only a nine percent chance he would make it to your smash. Good thing I made it on time," Inui said, readjusting his glasses.

Kaidoh blinked, realization dawning.

There was no angry hissing as he stared at Inui, no childish need to place everything on Inui's shoulders. The memories of that one rainy day were still rich, but the pain was faded, clouded over by new emotions that far outweighed the ones attached to such memories. At the same time, he did not feel the need to put blame on himself. Even his old guilt over what had transpired with Momoshiro did not well up. He had set things right, both for himself and his two rivals. But more than that, he realized he had found a greater cure for his previous pains than making up for his sins.

He had forgiven Inui. More than that, he had forgiven himself.

"Inui-sempai," he said as they took their places in the stands a little ways off from the other regulars.

"Hmm?" Inui returned around a bottle of water he was guzzling.

"Would you like to get some coffee when we get back?" Kaidoh asked with utter sincerity.

Inui stared at him, frozen in a position that had the water raised to his lips, titled just enough so he did not choke on water he did not mean to pour down his throat. Slowly, Inui lowered his arm and capped the water, setting it inside his bag and sticking his hand in one pocket. His other hand reached discreetly across the small gap between them, brushing Kaidoh's fingertips.

"I'd like that," Inui murmured.

Kaidoh's lips turned up in the barest hint of a smile, moving his hand closer to Inui's so that he could feel the warmth of Inui's palm, feel the roughness of calluses caused from so many hours swinging a racquet and writing in his notebook. The touch made Kaidoh shiver in an excited way, made his smile grow a little wider.

Here was the man that made him whole. He knew it would sound silly coming from a person his age, but there was something inside him that flared to life when he was with Inui and only him. He didn't know what it was, but it was bright and all consuming, and he was more than glad to let himself be swallowed by it. He felt his muscles relax as their fingers twined, felt the tension of the match, of everything, run off like water off a duck's back. He could feel the warmth of Inui's hand, the strength behind his grasp that conveyed desire and concern all at once. The gap between them suddenly shortened, if not physically than mentally, the roiling sea that had been there evaporating like a puddle.

In the single, almost mundane, act of holding hands Kaidoh found peace.

He turned his gaze from Inui back to the courts below where the Golden Pair were dancing across the court like partners that had danced together for an age longer than they had been alive. It was awe inspiring in its own way, and Kaidoh felt he knew just a little of what the pair felt as they danced their intricate steps across the hard court. He wondered if he and Inui had looked as in tune, as truly a part of one another as Oishi and Eiji did.

"Aw, man, I hope it doesn't rain," a first year groaned as they glared at the sky where gray clouds were rolling in.

Inui glanced over at Kaidoh, and Kaidoh met his gaze, calm and assured. He felt the things that were between them, the unsaid emotions that need no words, the desires, the fears, and the hopes. He felt it all, enveloping him like a mother wrapping a blanket around her child. It was warm and comforting, a wholly different feeling than anything he had ever felt.

He looked at up at the sky, watching the clouds of steely gray roll through the sky.

"It won't rain," Inui murmured, squeezing Kaidoh's hand.

Kaidoh's mouth softened into a real smile as he squeezed Inui's hand back. "No, not anymore."

**FIN**

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Hope everyone liked it! Please comment and tell me what you thought. Thanks! - OB -


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